


how soon is now

by bewareoftrips



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alice and Gladys being friends like we deserve, F/M, Halice - Freeform, Riverparents, Self Indulgent Fanfiction, hal as a football player... i've really lost it huh, parentdale, southside serpents, the whyte wyrm, this is a little different from the world i'm normally writing in but bear with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-22 23:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19139014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bewareoftrips/pseuds/bewareoftrips
Summary: Alice slams the wet glass on the bar and snatches the crumbled up bills from the kid’s hand. He’s too young to drink - hell, she’s too young to drink too - but it’s a party going on and it’s the Southside of town and normal rules don’t apply in places like the Whyte Wyrm.





	how soon is now

“You’re late.”

Alice puts on her best stern face, but Gladys pays her no mind. Instead the brunette kicks her bag under the bar and pulls on the collar of her blue work shirt to take a sniff. Alice sucks her teeth and starts pouring another beer for the kid standing in front of her.

“Look alive, Cohen. I said you’re late.”

Gladys steps into her personal space and some beer sloshes onto Alice’s hand. Gladys tugs her shirt towards her.

“Take a whiff. Do I smell?”

Alice slams the wet glass on the bar and snatches the crumbled up bills from the kid’s hand. He’s too young to drink - hell, she’s too young to drink too - but it’s a party going on and it’s the Southside of town and normal rules don’t apply in places like the Whyte Wyrm.

The kid slaunders off looking put out and even younger than he is in his way-too-big letterman. Alice crosses her arms, discreetly wiping her hands on the inside of her open flannel shirt, as Gladys inches ever so close. Her breasts press against Alice’s arm and she can see the smirk on Gladys’ face without looking.

“Al,” Gladys nudges her with a sneakered foot, “do I smell? I think I got some motor oil on my shirt. Well do I? Al? Alice Smith?” She nudges her shoulder. “Can you hear me? I’m right -”

“Yes, you reek. You smell like a goddamn garage.” Alice shrugs her off and takes a step away, taking in the sight of the bar. There were too many blue and yellow jackets for her to be at ease. “Can’t you bother to shower before you get here?”

“We’re fixing up a Mustang at the garage. I lost track of time.”

“It got real busy here for a while, you know.” Alice tries to sneak a look at the four loud boys whooping at the pool table, but Gladys’ gaze is burning a hole in her. “And I was all alone, left to deal with these drunk morons.”

Hog Eye isn’t even ten feet away doing a crossword puzzle at a table. They both know he’d never let the bar get backed up when there were Northside kids here with good money burning holes in their pockets, but Gladys keeps her mouth shut at Alice’s lie. She unbuttons the top of her work shirt, exposing the tank top underneath.

“Please, Gladys.” Alice mockingly covers her eyes, as if Gladys has anything she hasn't seen before. “I asked you here to tend bar, not entertain.”

The words would cut if she was on the receiving end, but Gladys is all smiles. “This place couldn’t afford to get me up on that stage.”  Her expression changes as she pulls her shirt over her head. She looks either way around the bar, grin tilting. “Are we in school or something?”

Alice leans back, finally getting her glance in at the boys hogging the pool table. Fred’s running his hands through his hair in exaggerated frustration, FP has a sour look on his face, and -

A hand in front of her eyes brings her back to the bar. “What’s going on? Why is the entire football team here? I've told FP a million times the less I see of those stupid jackets, the happier I am."

“You know we won that big game against Seaside High last night?” Gladys' expression doesn't change. "Well, we did. And since it was an away game, the team got home late so,” she waves her hand around the bar, “they decided to celebrate tonight.”

“Right.” Gladys rubs her bare arms. “And this is their idea of celebrating?”

“I guess they want to live life on the edge.” She rolls her eyes. “A bunch of dumb jocks slumming around a scummy bar.”

“Hey, you frequent this scummy bar all the time.”

“Not by choice.”

“Hmm. Where is FP?” She scans the place. “He can’t be too happy about his football buddies hanging around his stomping grounds.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” She drops her voice. “He’s in disguise.”

Alice head snaps back to the pool table to gesture at them. Of the four boys, only FP is sporting his RHS colors, yet he still looks more in place than the other three. Gladys cranes her neck to look at them and a mischievous grin comes upon her.

“My, my. What have we here?”

Alice bites her lip as she stares down the foursome. Hiram is in the middle of a celebratory dance and Fred and FP look sulky. The other -

“How did FP drag Fred here?”

The fourth boy lines up his shot on the pool table and Alice feels her breathe hitch. “Probably bribed him.”

Gladys laughs. “Oh I bet he did.” She does a rude gesture with her hand and mouth that earns a smile from Alice. “Are they hustling Northside boys?”

“Fred’s a Northside boy.”

“Northside boys with money, I mean. No one would be dumb enough to hustle Fred’s broke ass.”

The boy makes his shot and Hiram claps him hard on the back as he sinks a ball. “Sure looks like hustling to me. But Fred’s selling it too hard. Every time he misses a shot he starts throwing a fit. Good thing Hiram’s too stupid or drunk to notice.”

“Hiram’s not stupid.” Gladys goes about wiping down the wet rings on the bar with a rag. “He’s just cocky, arrogant.”

“That’s worse than being stupid.” Alice catches a lump in her throat. “He’s not even on the football team. God knows why he’s here.”

“Neither’s Fred.” Gladys pauses mid-wipe and looks over her shoulder. “Lodge is friends with Coop, he’s probably with him.” She shakes her head and returns to wiping down the counter. “Poor idiots. They’re going to walk out of here with no shoes.”

Alice clicks her teeth. “Yeah, well. It’s what they get. They’re not from this side of town.”

“Neither is Fred.” Gladys parrots her words for a moment ago.

“Fred is - Fred is Southside by association. Plus he and FP are trying to save up enough to buy a van. It’s as good a cause as any to scam some rich boys, right?”

“Right.” Gladys nods. “Hey, if they make enough tonight I bet I can weasle some two am milkshakes out of them.”

“I’d kill for a rootbeer float right now.” Alice peeks at the boys again. Hal Cooper’s looking in her direction and she snaps her head back so quick her hair brushes Gladys’ bare shoulder. “I’m just craving something sweet is all.”

Gladys raises an eyebrow and looks back towards the pool table. “Something sweet alright. Is that why your panties are in a twist?” She breaks out a cheeky grin. “Fred and FP ripping off the wrong rich boy tonight?”

“I don’t give a shit if Hiram Lodge is stupid enough to fall for the oldest trick in the book,” she scoffs. The heat rises in her face and her voice comes out several octaves higher than she cares for. “The pool scam? How dumb can you be?” She grabs a bottle of tequila from the wall and pours herself a shot. “Hasn’t he ever seen a movie or anything?”

Alice downs her shot and Gladys takes the glass before she can slam it on the bar. “Panties twisted,” she whispers an inch from her face. Alice swats her away and goes to tend to the group walking up.

“You’re so testy tonight, Al. I’m only messing with you.” Gladys hands off the beers Alice fills from the tap. “I know you have better taste than him.”

“Damn right I do.” She passes off the last beer and makes no move to give change for the ten they pass her. She raises an eyebrow and the group shuffles off looking embarrassed. “My type is the exact opposite of whatever Hiram Lodge is.”

“I get it.” Gladys nods. “You don’t go for short, dark, and handsome. Nope. You’d prefer tall, blonde, and boring.”

“Hal is not boring,” Alice hisses. She half glances over her shoulder. “Don’t you call him that.”

“Who said anything about Hal?” Gladys smirks at her confession. “But you did actually call him that last week.”

“I - no. Of course I didn’t.”

“Hiram said something dumb to you and you said,” she clears her throat and tries to mimic Alice’s high voice, “‘You think you’re so tough just because you have tall, dark, and stupid and tall, blonde, and boring with you.’ Ring a bell?”

She remembers the exact moment, coming out of the cafeteria and walking smack dab into Hiram with Marty Mantle and Hal Cooper on either side of him. Hiram falling flat on his ass and telling her to watch her attitude as Hal lifted him back up.

Alice shrugs. “I don’t remember that.”

“Of course not.” Gladys’ eyes search the smokey ceiling. “I just didn’t peg him as your type is all. Alice Smith drooling over some broad shouldered, all American boy who'd look better suited in a Leave it to Beaver rerun than a bar on the Southside. I’ve really seen it all now.”

“I’m not - he is not my type!” she hisses. "I don't have a type! There is no drooling here! He's just - just nice is all."

"Nice and boring." Alice glares at her. "Sorry. I just don't get it."

"Well no one is asking you to." Alice plays with the loose button of her flannel.  “He’s just kind of - of cute. And I like his articles in the school paper. And maybe I like,” she sighs, “caught him drawing in English class one day and we got to talking and everything, but that doesn’t mean anything. I don’t like him. He’s not my type. I don’t have a -”

“Well, your type or not, he won’t stop staring at us.” Gladys peeks over Alice’s shoulder and gives a little wave. Alice pulls her hand down and whips her head around. Hal is looking at them, but Gladys’ wave is directed at FP. Hiram’s bent over the table lining up a shot as FP makes a crude thrusting gesture behind him and Fred fake coughs to cover up his laughter.  

Gladys shakes her head. “FP’s so stupid,” she says, but there’s a smile on her face and adoration in her eyes. Alice doesn’t know whether it’s sweet or sickening. “He’s like the teenage version of a puppy.”

“Uh huh.” Alice can feel Hal watching her even though she isn’t looking. “Trying to hump everything around him. Sure sounds like a dog to me.”

“Hey, barkeep!” Alice hears FP scream, even over the music blasting. “Mind bringing me and my boys over here some shots?”

Gladys cups her hands around her mouth. “Sorry, jock. Table service is for fellows from this side of town only. Guess you’ll have to come up here yourself.”

FP licks his lips. “There might be a nice tip in it for you.”

“Yeah? With what money?” She has the attention of half the bar. “You look like you’re about to lose the shirt off your back!”

He winks their way and turns back to the game. The patrons - still far too many Riverdale High students for her taste - slowly turn back to their own business. She catches a glimpse of Marty Mantle by the dart board looking stupid as ever in his varsity jacket, playing against some Serpents who look ready to tear him apart if he says one wrong word.

“I did my part. Maybe they’ll believe he really sucks now.” She turns back to Alice. “What’s with the pout?”

“I’m not pouting.” She wraps her arms around herself even though she’s as warm as anything. “I just wanna head home already.”

Gladys does an exaggerated pout herself. “What about your root beer float?”

“I’ll live.”

“Ah, I know what this is about.” Gladys takes her by the shoulders and spins her around so she’s facing the pool table. “Did my little outburst ruin your chances with Wally Cleaver?”

She shrugs her shoulders up but Gladys doesn’t let go. “I am not Hal Cooper’s type, okay?

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Hey.” Gladys’ voice is softer than normal. She wraps her arms around Alice from behind and rests her chin on her shoulder. She nudges her head until she looks up and she sees their ridiculous reflection in the mirror over the bar. “You see that girl I’m looking at?”

“Uh huh.” Alice tries to go back to wiping glasses, but Gladys tightens her grip.

“That girl right there,” she swings them back and forth a bit, “is one of the hottest girls in town, you hear me? I’d probably sell my soul to get curls like hers.”

Alice snorts. “As if you have a soul.”

Gladys squeezes her harder. “Anyone in this bar would nail her.” She smiles as the corners of Alice’s lips finally twitch. “Present company included.”

Alice finally let out a full smile. “Don’t profess your love to me just yet."

"I didn't say love. Just said I'd nail you."

“Guys like him like prissy cheerleaders. Not me.”

“Oh, I think guys like that love girls from this side of town.” She turns her attention back to the pool table. “Look at him. Boy is a freak waiting to come out. And a virgin to boot.”

“He is not a virgin!” Alice rolls her eyes. “People like him.”

“Alice, please.” She takes her chin and turns Alice’s face towards the boys. “Look. He’s the type who’s mother has probably instilled abstinence and chastity into his head from birth. He’s just waiting for right girl to free him from that. Teach him the ways of the world. Show him a good time.” She turns Alice’s face towards her own, her lips pouted out like a fish. “You can be that girl, Al.”

Alice lets a breath out as Gladys frees her face. “A guy like that would never date a Southside girl.”

“Who said anything about dating?” Gladys scoffs. “You don’t need some suburban prince to save you, Alice. You know that, right? You don’t need to date him. But what you do need is to get laid, so get your ass over there and talk to him.”

She bites the inside of her cheek and fixes her eyes on her scuffed boots. “I don’t want to.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass.” Alice doesn’t look back up until she feels Gladys plucking at her flannel. “You’re all flushed. Let me borrow this. I’m getting cold.”

“No.” She wraps her arms around herself. “All I have on is a -”

“A t-shirt and I just have a tank top.” Gladys practically takes it off of Alice. “Just give it here.”

A thin line of skin shows between the bottom of her shirt and her jeans, but she’s worn a lot less in this place. Gladys slides the flannel on and rolls the sleeves up. She regards Alice, looking her up and down quickly.

“You look perfect.” She finally meets her eyes. “Hot, but casual. Knock ‘em dead.”

“Knock who -”

“Hey, Cooper.” Gladys glances over her shoulder and Alice freezes, unsure if she’s joking or not. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Hey, Gladys.” Goosebumps run up her spine as she turns. He smiles at her and, even in the dim bar light, it’s blinding. “Hey, Alice.”

“Hey.” Her words come out slowly and she forces a smile. “Cooper.”

“Cooper,” he repeats. “You’ve never called me that.”

Her mouth goes dry, but Gladys saves her with a light smack on her shoulder. “Of course Cooper must be your father? You prefer Coop.” She looks over at the pool table. “At least that’s what all your football buddies call you.”

His eyes stay locked with Alice even though his words are directed at the other girl. “Coop is fine. Cooper’s fine. Alice just normally calls me Ha-”

“Did you want something?” Alice cuts him off and his mouth drops at her harsh tone. There’s still a smile there, still more teeth than she can believe, but there’s a slight sense of hurt behind his eyes.

“Drinks, yeah.” He breaks their gaze to pull his wallet out. “FP has requested shots.”

“Whiskey good?” Gladys asks. She pinches Alice’s forearm before finally taking her hand off her and grabs a bottle off the bar by the neck. “Or do you and Mr. Lodge over there have more refined tastes?”

“Whiskey’s great, thanks.”

Alice starts for the shot glasses, but Gladys bumps her hips to stop her, shoving her closer in Hal’s direction. She grabs a rag to keep busy and wipes the clean-as-it’ll-ever-be bar down next to him.

“Coop, is that your Dodge Dart I saw outside? The ‘74?” Gladys asks. She stomps on Alice’s foot but her Doc Martens protect her from Gladys’ sneakers. “It’s a beauty.”

“Thanks.” Hal takes his eyes off of Alice and she finally lets out the breath she’s been holding. “I like her alright.”

“Do you know,” Gladys passes Alice the bottle and sets six shot glasses down, nudging her to pour, “the car was originally called the Dodge Demon until some Christian organizations protested it and they changed it to the Dart for the next model?”

“No kidding.” Hal fixes himself back on Alice as she quickly pours. “My mom would be one of those protesters.“

Gladys gives Hal a lopsided grin. “Your mom would, huh?” She pokes Alice in the ribs. “You don’t say.” She grabs a shot and nudges one to Alice. “Take one with us, Coop. Alice will top you off.”

“No.” Alice nudges hers towards Hal. “I just had tequila. Take mine.”

He starts to shake his head. “I couldn’t -”

“You can and you will.” Gladys forces another shot glass into Alice’s hand. “Tequila for the lady.” She clinks her glass against either of theirs. “To Riverdale High winning a football game.” She regards Hal over the rim of her glass. “That’s why you boys are here, right?”

“Yeah, sure. That’s it.” Hal’s eyes are fixed on Alice again and he clinks his glass against just hers this time. “To the very attentive bartenders at the Whyte Wyrm.”

Alice takes her shot with him and slams the glass down. “Impressed with this hole in the wall?”

“Aspects of it, yeah.” He breaks his smile with her to take his shot. “That is - that is not smooth.” He coughs. “Oh, let me get that.” He takes his wallet out but she shakes her head at the bill he offers her.

“Don’t worry about it, Coop. This round is on me.”

He waves it towards her. “Oh, Alice. I couldn’t let you -”

Her instinct is to snap at his niceness, at him turning down her generosity, but she forces her voice to come out as nice as she can get it. “Hal, I’m serious. My treat.”

“I insist.” He holds out the money. “I couldn’t -

Gladys snatches the ten from Hal’s hand. “Let’s just call it a tip then, yeah?” She folds it up into quarters and slips it in Alice’s back pocket, giving her a sharp slap on the ass before walking to the other side of the bar. Hal raises his eyebrow.

“She is certainly,” Hal thinks of the right word, “friendly?”

Alice bites her lip. “Handsy is the word I normally use.” She lets her shoulders loosen. “And that’s just her after one drink. You have to see her after a few.”

“Right.” He gulps subtly and she knows she’s not supposed to notice. “So do you work here every weekend or -”

“Hal!” Hiram Lodge’s voice rings out across the bar. “You here to pick up girls or you here to play pool, Hal? Where are those shots? Hal!”

Gladys groans. “Cram it, Lodge! Can’t you see he’s busy!” She nudges Alice before ducking under the bar and stomping over to the pool table.

Hal rolls his empty glass on the bar. “I guess I should get back over there.” He picks up two shots with either hand. “I’ll come back when they want another round of beers -”

“They’re scamming you guys.” The words leave her mouth before she can help it and she leans across the bar towards him. “Fred and FP. They’re pretending they’re bad at pool and when your guard is down they’re -” Hal starts laughing. “I’m being serious.”

“Alice, Alice.” He shakes his hands and a few drops of whiskey fall on his sleeve. “I’m not stupid. And no offence, but Fred and FP aren’t exactly subtle either.”

She furrows her brow. “So why are you still playing?”

He shrugs. “We’re having fun. And if I’m being honest,” he downs one of the shots he’s still holding, “I only came out tonight because FP told me you work here on the weekend.”

Her heart speeds up. “Yeah?” He nods and she grabs the whiskey bottle to refill his glass. “That’s - that’s cool. I’m glad you came. Even if my stupid friends are bleeding you dry.”

“Nah.” His smile verges on goofy as the drinks settle into him. “It’s Hiram’s money we’re betting anyway. He has plenty to lose.”

Her nose scrunches up as she laughs. The face her dad says makes her look mousey, but Hal is still all smiles at her.

“I think Gladys has taken my place.” He looks over his shoulder at the pool table. “I’d ask if you want to go hang out, but I drove Hiram.”

“You’re too drunk to drive anyone anywhere right now.”

“I am not drunk.” He looks back to her cross eyed. “I’m fine, really. But Hiram -”

“They’ll take good care of Hiram. Get him home safe.” Alice leaves out the part about them not having a car. “I promise.”

“You sure -?”

“Nice shot, Cohen!” Hiram screams. They turn together just in time to see Gladys ignore Hiram’s attempt to high five her.

“He’s having a blast.” She taps one of his shot glasses. “Lets drop those off and go.”

“You can just leave?” He glances both ways down the bar. “Aren’t you working?”

She shrugs. “It’s fine.”

He smiles at her again, half dreamy and half drunk. “Cool.”

Her leather jacket is tucked under the bar and she pauses before sliding it on. She may have been warm enough in the October air with a flannel, but Gladys is already working up a sweat running around the pool table in it. She slides the leather on and watches Hal’s eyes take her in.

“Let’s go?” He nods obediently and she takes two of the shots from him to carry over.

FP has his hand tucked into the back of Gladys’ jeans as they approach. Alice hands one to FP and leaves another on the table for Fred.

“We’re going to take off,” Alice mutters under her breath to Gladys. FP’s ears perk up and she gives him a death glare before his mouth even opens. “You guys can take care of Lodge, right?”

“Hiram and I are pool buddies now,” Gladys says loudly. “Of course we’ll take good care of him.”

“You’re leaving?” Hiram gives Hal a hard shove in the shoulder, almost knocking the glasses out of his hand. He takes one from him. “Suit yourself, Hal. Gladys is a better partner anyway.” He clinks their glasses together, spilling whiskey to the floor. “One for the road.”

Hal reluctantly takes the shot and claps Hiram on the back. “I’ll see you.”

“Careful, Hal.” Fred finally takes his shot and knocks a ball off the table, narrowly missing his drink. Alice resists the urge to kick him. “Alice bites.”

Pink patches play up Hal’s cheeks. “I’ll take my chances.” He picks up his jacket from a chair - a light blue windbreaker instead of a loud letterman - and follows Alice. When she opens the door, he’s a few feet behind her catching up and Gladys is waving enthusiastically at them.

“My car is right there.” He points as they cross the slew of motorcycles in the parking lot. “The green one.”

He stumbles the last few feet to the car and breaks his fall hard against the side. She can almost feel Gladys cringing at the thump from back inside. He turns around and leans against the door, seemingly grateful for the steady object.

"Remember when I said I wasn't drunk?" He fumbles through his pockets as she catches up to him. She takes one, two, three steps closer than necessary so there are only a few inches between them. He's surprised at her closeness when he finally looks up. "I think I lied. I might be a little drunk."

"No shit?" She throws her head back and laughs. "I think you passed little a while ago."

"Maybe." He pulls his keys out of his pocket, a plastic Statue of Liberty keychain dangling from the end. He raises them toward his head. "How about I let you drive if -"

She snatches the keys before he can finish his thought. “If what?”

His hand is still held out and he slowly lowers it as a smile plays on his lips. “If nothing. You drive.”

“You play football with those reflexes?”

“Not well,” he laughs.

“Don’t say that.” Alice shakes her head. “You’re good though.”

“I don’t even like playing,” he admits. “I don’t even really like football. I’d quit if it wouldn’t drive my parents nuts.” He leans through the window of the front seat and she wants to kick him for leaving his windows open on this side of town. Some soft rock comes from the stereo and he hits his head on the frame as he comes out. “I’m okay.”

“I didn’t ask,” she teases. He gives her a smile so genuine and bright, she wants to melt into him in the poorly lit parking lot. Instead, she shifts her weight between her boots and clutches the keys to her chest.

“You don't mind driving?" he asks.

"You have a nice car and I never turn down a chance to make Gladys jealous.” She feeds him a wicked grin and forces the words out of her mouth before she chickens out. “So where does Hal Cooper take a girl when he wants to have a good time?"

He bites his lip. "Pops."

"Pops?" Her voice drops. Her face drops. Her mood drops. "That's not very,” she searches for the word, “private."

“Who cares about privacy?” She catches her breath as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. He pulls back, seemingly embarrassed by his own move, and shoves both his hands in his pockets. “I’d kill for a cheeseburger.”

“A cheeseburger.” She slouches and make a mental note to kick herself when she hears the disappointment in her own voice. Desperate. Stupid. She thinks back to Gladys words and smiles. “You want a burger when you have a pretty girl right in front of you?”

“No, I want a cheeseburger.” There are teeth marks in his lower lip when he opens his mouth for a smile. Bright and wide, no doubt a result of the mouth of metal he endured until freshman year. “And you know, I want you to still be in front of me at Pops. I can have a cheeseburger with the company of a pretty girl.”

“Uh huh.” She shifts her weight between her feet. “And what do I get for being your chauffeur for the night?”

He regards her carefully, front teeth digging into his lip again. “A root beer float.”

Alice’s mouth falls open. “How did you -”

“Gladys told me.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head softly. “You prefer root beer floats over milkshakes. She said it would be good to know.” He peeks his eyes open. “For future reference.”

“Right.” She stiffens up. “Well don’t get too comfy yet, Coop. No one ever said this was going anywhere.”

“I like you, Alice.” He smiles softly again. “You know why?”

Her heart beats so fast in her chest, she takes a step away from him. “Because you’re drunk and not thinking straight?”

“No.” He slumps against the car, hands still in his pockets. “I’m good at reading people. At least I think I am. But with you, I don’t know.” He gives her a look that reminds her of Gladys looking at FP inside. Stupid, sappy adoration. “I never know what you’re about to say or what you’re thinking. You always take me by surprise.”

A lump rises to her throat that she can’t swallow. “You like that?”

“Love it. You’re unpredictable. Exciting.” He feeds her that sappy grin again and she doesn’t realize she’s closing in on him until her boots nudge his shoes. “I like you.”

She swallows the lump, swallows her pride. “I like you too, Hal.”

His hands are still in his pockets but she tilts her head up towards him. His mouth opens but instead of leaning down to her, his eyes look to the side and he smiles.  

“Do you hear that?” His face lights up. “Your band just came on.”

She hears a familiar guitar rift coming from the car but the song escapes her. “My band?”

Hal hums along for a few seconds. “The Smiths.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. She raises her eyebrow. “They’re The Smiths, you’re a Smith -”

With a firm yank on his windbreaker, she pulls his face to her level and plants a kiss on him. It’s not until she lightly bites his lip that he opens his mouth and responds, kissing her back. His arms fumble as he takes his hands out of his pockets and wraps them around her waist. A few moments pass before they break away. Stars are in his eyes and color in his lips, apparent even in the dim parking lot. His hands stay firm on her waist.

“What was that for?”

Alice shrugs, letting go of his jacket and snaking her arms around his neck. “I had to stop you from talking before you said something else stupid.”

“It’s very likely I’m about to say something else stupid.”

They’re both leaning against the car as she kisses him again. She pushes from her mind how close they are to her home and how far from his. How different they are. How they come from different worlds.

All she wants is for this moment to last.


End file.
